Five Little Peppers And How They Grew [37]
them to their hearts content, and altogether got so very home-like, that they all felt as if they had known him for a year. Ben neglected his work a little, but then visitors didn't come every day to the Peppers; so while Polly worked away at her bread, which she was "going to make like biscuits," she said, the audience gathered in the little old kitchen was in the merriest mood, and enjoyed everything to the fullest extent.
"Do put in another stick, Bensie dear," said Polly; "this bread won't befit for anything!"
"Isn't this fun, though!" cried Jasper, running up to try the oven; "I wish I could ever bake," and he looked longingly at the little brown biscuits waiting their turn out on the table.
"You come out some day," said Polly, sociably, "and we'll all try baking--mammy'd like to have you, I know," feeling sure that nothing would be too much for Mrs. Pepper to do for the protector of little Phronsie.
"I will!" cried Jasper, perfectly delighted. "You can't think how awfully dull it is out in Hingham!"
"Don't you live there?" asked Polly, with a gasp, almost dropping a tin full of little brown lumps of dough she was carrying to the oven.
"Live there!" cried Jasper; and then he burst out into a merry laugh. "No, indeed! I hope not! Why, we're only spending the summer there, father and I, in the hotel."
"Where's your mother?" asked Joel, squeezing in between Jasper and his audience. And then they all felt instinctively that a very wrong question had been asked.
"I haven't any mother," said the boy, in a low voice.
They all stood quite still for a moment; then Polly said, "I wish you'd come out sometime; and you may bake--or anything else," she added; and there was a kinder ring to her voice than ever.
No mother! Polly for her life, couldn't imagine how anybody could feel without a mother, but the very words alone smote her heart; and there was nothing she wouldn't have done to give pleasure to one who had done so much for them.
"I wish you could see our mother," she said, gently. "Why, here she comes now! oh, mamsie, dear," she cried. "Do, Joe, run and take her bundle."
Mrs. Pepper stopped a minute to kiss Phronsie--her baby was dearer than ever to her now. Then her eye fell on Jasper, who stood respectfully waiting and watching her with great interest.
"Is this," she asked, taking it all in at the first glance--the boy with the honest eyes as Ben had described him--and the big, black dog--"is this the boy who saved my little girl?"
"Oh, ma'am," cried Jasper, "1 didn't do much; 'twas Prince."
"I guess you never'll know how much you did do," said Mrs. Pepper. Then looking with a long, keen gaze into the boy's eyes that met her own so frankly and kindly: "I'll trust him," she said to herself; "a boy with those eyes can't help but be good."
"Her eyes are just the same as Polly's," thought Jasper, "just such laughing ones, only Polly's are brown," and he liked her on the spot.
And then, somehow, the hubbub ceased. Polly went on with her work, and the others separated, and Mrs. Pepper and Jasper had a long talk. When the mother's eyes fell on Phronsie playing around on the floor, she gave the boy a grateful smile that he thought was beautiful.
"Well, I declare," said Jasper, at last, looking up at the old clock in the corner by the side of the cupboard, "I'm afraid I'll miss the stage, and then father never'll let me come again. Come, Prince."
"Oh, don't go," cried Phronsie, wailing. "Let doggie stay! Oh, make him stay, mammy!"
"I can't, Phronsie," said Mrs. Pepper, smiling, "if he thinks he ought to go."
"I'll come again," said Jasper, eagerly, "if I may, ma'am."
He looked up at Mrs. Pepper as he stood cap in hand, waiting for the answer.
"I'm sure we should be glad if your father'll be willing," she added; thinking, proudly, "My children are an honor to anybody, I'm sure," as she glanced around on the bright little group she could call her own. "But be sure, Jasper," and she laid her hand on his arm as she looked down into his eyes, "that you father is willing,
"Do put in another stick, Bensie dear," said Polly; "this bread won't befit for anything!"
"Isn't this fun, though!" cried Jasper, running up to try the oven; "I wish I could ever bake," and he looked longingly at the little brown biscuits waiting their turn out on the table.
"You come out some day," said Polly, sociably, "and we'll all try baking--mammy'd like to have you, I know," feeling sure that nothing would be too much for Mrs. Pepper to do for the protector of little Phronsie.
"I will!" cried Jasper, perfectly delighted. "You can't think how awfully dull it is out in Hingham!"
"Don't you live there?" asked Polly, with a gasp, almost dropping a tin full of little brown lumps of dough she was carrying to the oven.
"Live there!" cried Jasper; and then he burst out into a merry laugh. "No, indeed! I hope not! Why, we're only spending the summer there, father and I, in the hotel."
"Where's your mother?" asked Joel, squeezing in between Jasper and his audience. And then they all felt instinctively that a very wrong question had been asked.
"I haven't any mother," said the boy, in a low voice.
They all stood quite still for a moment; then Polly said, "I wish you'd come out sometime; and you may bake--or anything else," she added; and there was a kinder ring to her voice than ever.
No mother! Polly for her life, couldn't imagine how anybody could feel without a mother, but the very words alone smote her heart; and there was nothing she wouldn't have done to give pleasure to one who had done so much for them.
"I wish you could see our mother," she said, gently. "Why, here she comes now! oh, mamsie, dear," she cried. "Do, Joe, run and take her bundle."
Mrs. Pepper stopped a minute to kiss Phronsie--her baby was dearer than ever to her now. Then her eye fell on Jasper, who stood respectfully waiting and watching her with great interest.
"Is this," she asked, taking it all in at the first glance--the boy with the honest eyes as Ben had described him--and the big, black dog--"is this the boy who saved my little girl?"
"Oh, ma'am," cried Jasper, "1 didn't do much; 'twas Prince."
"I guess you never'll know how much you did do," said Mrs. Pepper. Then looking with a long, keen gaze into the boy's eyes that met her own so frankly and kindly: "I'll trust him," she said to herself; "a boy with those eyes can't help but be good."
"Her eyes are just the same as Polly's," thought Jasper, "just such laughing ones, only Polly's are brown," and he liked her on the spot.
And then, somehow, the hubbub ceased. Polly went on with her work, and the others separated, and Mrs. Pepper and Jasper had a long talk. When the mother's eyes fell on Phronsie playing around on the floor, she gave the boy a grateful smile that he thought was beautiful.
"Well, I declare," said Jasper, at last, looking up at the old clock in the corner by the side of the cupboard, "I'm afraid I'll miss the stage, and then father never'll let me come again. Come, Prince."
"Oh, don't go," cried Phronsie, wailing. "Let doggie stay! Oh, make him stay, mammy!"
"I can't, Phronsie," said Mrs. Pepper, smiling, "if he thinks he ought to go."
"I'll come again," said Jasper, eagerly, "if I may, ma'am."
He looked up at Mrs. Pepper as he stood cap in hand, waiting for the answer.
"I'm sure we should be glad if your father'll be willing," she added; thinking, proudly, "My children are an honor to anybody, I'm sure," as she glanced around on the bright little group she could call her own. "But be sure, Jasper," and she laid her hand on his arm as she looked down into his eyes, "that you father is willing,